


A Lost Apprentice

by Bam4Me



Series: Don't Remind Me, What Was It That I Said [2]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: 18 yo Obi, Attachments, Bruck isn't horrible lol Obi is shook, Diapers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Jedi Master Dooku, Non graphic diaper change, Obi is currently an emotional mess, Past Rape/Non-con, Physical Disability, Pre Non-Sexual Age Play, Protective Dooku, dark qui-gon, it will get better later so it might seem OOC rn but it gets less later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 07:12:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15431748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bam4Me/pseuds/Bam4Me
Summary: Obi-Wan's life changes are big, but he'll get through this will his lineage's help. After all, a lineage is like a family.





	A Lost Apprentice

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, okay so yes a non-graphic diaper change happens. I would like to emphasize, that though this series so far is listed as pre-non sexual age play, that has nothing to do with Obi-Wan's incontinence. In fact, if all authors could just stop equating infantilism with adults who need diapers, I would love that. I am not here to say that Obi-Wan's a little because he needs diapers. In fact, eventually, he won't need them at all but he'll still be into ageplay.
> 
> Also, Dooku being a good protective grandpa is my aesthetic plz accept and love it. 
> 
> The name of the beast that attacked Obi is 100% made up, as well as the planet it happened on.
> 
> Also, for Obi-Wan's hoverchair, search Star Wars Hoverchair on google, and you'll get an image of these round hoverchairs with cushions in them for meditating on. For Obi, he has one with an elongated end to it so it can be laid down on, as well as a cushioned back piece so he doesn't have to sit up straight the whole time and hurt his back. So, based off canon but with added length so it's good for laying on.
> 
> padawansuggest.tumblr.com  
> gatersgonewild.tumblr.com

Within four days of being on Serenno with Qui-Gon and Grandmaster Dooku, Obi-Wan was starting to feel a little more healed. 

 

Mentally, anyways. Qui-Gon made sure to spend hours just meditating with Obi-Wan, as well as the two of them could, with Obi-Wan’s frustration over having a healing and neigh useless leg. Honestly, if the thing wasn’t throbbing because of the residual poison, it was sitting there like a useless lump that made him unable to even  _ shift _ properly in bed.

 

“You didn’t lose  _ all _ nerve sensation in the leg, it’ll be possible to use in the future.”

 

Obi-Wan was laying in bed, head shoved in a pillow out of embarrassment while he steadily ignored Qui-Gon’s gentle hands changing him. He’d had a nap a little bit ago, and woken up wet and ashamed of it. Qui-Gon was never anything but gentle with him, reassuring touches to make him feel better.

 

But that didn’t mean he wanted to look his master in the eye while he did it. It was  _ too intimate _ and made him feel like a little boy again. Well, he supposes, sometimes to a master, their padawan is always a little bit of a child, even if only in memory. Obi-Wan may not have been taken as a padawan until he was thirteen, but Qui-Gon had often been a steady presence in the crèche and at the temple through his childhood. Qui-Gon was no stranger to children, and his training bond with Obi-Wan would have been formed years earlier if it hadn’t been for the wound Xanatos’s fall had dealt to him.

 

Obi-Wan supposes, maybe Qui-Gon would always think of him as a child, even if it’s only in memory.

 

Something as simple as needing help with a partially paralyzed pelvic area causing accidents for the foreseeable future, wouldn’t even register on the scale of inappropriate to Qui-Gon. His padawan needed him, so he provided.

 

But it was so  _ intimate _ , Obi-Wan just couldn’t watch him do that. It made him feel a little like crying, and he wasn’t entirely sure why? Like he was a child, and nothing would ever be right again, and everything was just slipping out of his grasp as he fell back into the grip of bodily dependency.

 

He lowered the pillow enough to see the man, but kept it tightly pressed against his lower face and chest. It was a nice big pillow, good for hiding behind. Qui-Gon was smiling so gently it made Obi-Wan want to hug him, and Qui-Gon knew it, because his shields were still terrible, and they were still working on Obi-Wan’s projecting issues, but Qui-Gon suspected it had something to do with Obi-Wan’s emotional issues, and they needed to figure those out as well. Obi-Wan’s emotions were constantly changing, none of the Jedi serenity he had learned so long ago. He felt like he was an angry thirteen year old again, scared of losing his home and future.

 

But it wasn’t his home he was scared of now. He was scared he’d just  _ never _ get better and being stuck here, feeling like a baby every time he needed to have a  _ diaper change _ because he got hurt… and a little bit… bitter anger.

 

He was angry. He couldn’t help that, but mostly, he was angry at the Order itself.

 

Dooku kept up just enough with temple politics to know that Obi-Wan had been labeled a knight elect just over two months ago. A knight elect is when a master wanted to knight a padawan, and even though the padawan could pass the trials, it wasn’t enough to convince the council, usually because of a young age or mental health status. So they would send the knight elect on small missions away from the temple.

 

Well, whoever decided to send him out to the outer rim where he nearly got killed and is now permanently scarred and disabled? They now have Obi-Wan’s eternal hate… well, eternal side-eye.

 

Dooku said his temporary master during the years him and Qui-Gon had been apart was Knight Herics, and from the looks of their short and questionable training, the knight hadn’t been to keen on taking a padawan in the first place, much less willing to see it through any longer.

 

Obi-Wan couldn’t put a face to the name, the memories of that time utterly lost, and he must have never met the knight before that. But one thing was certain, he didn’t want to go back to him.

 

He wanted  _ his _ master. He  _ had _ his master, and he wasn’t letting go of him.

 

Obi-Wan’s eyes were full of tears, and his face was hot. He wasn’t going to cry, but he felt vulnerable, a little bit scared, like he always got during changes, no matter how much he tried to reassure his master he didn’t want anyone else, especially not the droids, to do it for him instead. He just felt emotionally raw.

 

“Yes, the medical droids say they expect me to recover a full  _ twelve percent _ usage of the leg in a few years when the poison is fully cleared.”

 

Qui-Gon pulled the straps of the new diaper in place, smoothing them down before sitting back on his knees in the bed, gently manipulating Obi-Wan’s right leg back into position so his hips wouldn’t start to hurt. That was something they needed to watch out for. Without the majority of the feeling in the leg, it’ll be easy to pull it into a position that’s hard on his hip, putting a strain on it, which could cause muscle tension, arthritis, and if prolonged, muscle damage. Just because you can’t feel the tension, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

 

The leg itself was wrapped in bandages from ankle to hip, though other than the throbbing, Obi-Wan couldn’t feel much of it, and what he could feel was mostly around the inner thigh, the opposite from where he’d been gouged.

 

“That’s not  _ completely _ true. When your scars are fully healed, we’ll get you a nerve brace so the leg will be fully functional. Of course, it’ll be easier on your muscles in a few years when the poison is all gone, but with a nerve brace it’ll send signals back to your brain and allow you to use the leg just like normal.”

 

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at him, looking a little suspicious. “Just like that? Like getting a metal leg?”

 

Qui-Gon nodded. “Just like that. Of course, we’re not going to do the fitting until the cuts are fully healed. The doctors said when your leg no longer has open wounds, the majority of the poison will be gone, and it’ll be easier to manipulate, less stiff. Other than that, you could always learn to use the force to manipulate the leg itself. It’ll make it easier to get into the hoverchair or move it without help.”

 

Obi-Wan looked down at the stark white bandages covering the claw marks. It would make for some interesting looking scars. He tugged at the bottom of his sweater with his hand, face heating up again while he tried to cover himself up, though he wasn’t sure what from. Not like Qui-Gon hadn’t seen it all.

 

When he looked back up, the raw feeling was back, and he didn’t think he could hold himself back from the choked off sob this time, reaching out for him in a way that made him feel even younger and needier than when he was being changed.

 

Qui-Gon gave him that soft smile again, leaning down so he could pull Obi-Wan up and into his arms. Obi-Wan was grateful for it, whimpering while he pushed his head into Qui-Gon’s shoulder, hiding in his warmth.

 

He didn’t want to be anywhere else but here, with Qui-Gon. He didn’t remember Qui-Gon leaving the Order, he didn’t remember the pain it probably caused him. All he knew, was that Qui-Gon didn’t want to leave him either, and the idea of letting go made him want to cry.

 

He wasn’t letting go, no matter how hard he was pushed. He was right where he belonged.

 

***   
  


Dooku was surprisingly nice, for an old cantankerous Jedi Master who’d run off back to his home planet simply so he didn’t have to deal with the high council on a regular basis. He said it was one of the perks of being a shadow. Of course, other Jedi have been known to spend most of their time away from the temple as well, but being a shadow usually meant you had little contact with the main temple.

 

But thing is, Dooku is surprisingly nice. He was putting both his padawan and grandpadawan up in his home and hadn’t once asked if they’d planned on leaving anytime, plus, Qui-Gon says Xanatos and Bruck stayed here when they weren’t out on their own business.

 

They might not be a part of the Jedi Order, but Xanatos had kept his promise to teach the other boy, and they did well for themselves here on the Outer Rim. Qui-Gon says that getting to reconnect with Xanatos has helped him accept his own fall with more grace and acceptance than he otherwise would have shown. If Xanatos could continue to do good after a fall, raising a student of his own, Qui-Gon could pull himself together and learn to move on as well. 

 

Dooku had a nice library here. Jedi weren’t supposed to own things, but out here on the Outer Rim, without the support of the temple and the funds that come with it, you either make your own way or you just didn’t survive that long. Dooku, like Qui-Gon, like Obi-Wan, was a scholar, and he would be lost without history to learn, books to drown himself in.

 

The library wasn’t like the temple library, it was warmer, full of soft places to sit and tables to work at. It was the type of library to put in a home. Obi-Wan loved it.

 

But here Obi-Wan was, stuck in a dumb hoverchair. This dumb hoverchair that Qui-Gon told him he wasn’t allowed to leave unless it was to go back to bed. This dumb hoverchair that never went as fast as he wanted it to and made him almost fall asleep.

 

“Qui-Gon says you’ve been having visions in the night, but not asking him for help.”

 

Obi-Wan’s chair paused, hovering mid air next to his grandmaster, who didn’t look up from his work translating some fancy old book into Aurebesh. How he could translate and talk at the same time Obi-Wan had no idea. It must be some fancy master trick, cause all the masters seemed to know how to do it.

 

Dooku set down his stilis on the flimsiplast with a little snicker. “I see your shields are still needing some work, Obi-Wan.”

 

Obi-Wan sighed, nodding. “Master has been helping me rebuild them, but it’s been slow. They were so messed up from what happened, it probably would have been faster to start all over, but since they were still there, we’re trying to repair them.”

 

Dooku nodded. “And the visions?”

 

Obi-Wan coloured, embarrassed at the poor attempts to hide it. “I’m normally better at keeping myself from having them at all, but with everything that’s happened… it’s harder to control them.”

 

Dooku just looked sympathetic, nodding once before looking down when a hairless cat jumped up into his lap, before using him as a springboard to get up into Obi-Wan’s chair with him. She was a pretty little thing, and she seemed to like Obi-Wan’s chair, since they could move around without her having to get up. Obi-Wan just gave her a little smile and a kiss on the head while she settled against his stomach.

 

“It would be harder to control your visions while healing yes, but what I want to know, is why you haven’t asked Qui-Gon for help.”

 

Obi-Wan just looked down at the cat, not speaking for a long moment. “...he doesn’t need to deal with this. Master has never… approved of the visions. He just says I need better control and they’ll be easier to keep away.”

 

Dooku gave a little sigh, looking like he honestly wanted to roll his eyes. “You should ask him what he thinks about visions  _ now _ . As you can imagine, since his fall, he’s had quite a few differing opinions than he once had before, and I think his thoughts on visions has changed, though he’s still no better at receiving them now.”

 

“You think he’ll be okay with them now?”

 

“I think that he’ll do whatever it takes to nurture the talents you were born with instead of asking you to leave them for others.  _ That _ is the change that he’s gone through.”

 

Obi-Wan thought that over for a bit while Dooku went back to his translations. He felt exhausted again. His short nap that morning had been stressful, and what followed was even more stress. If he wanted to make it to dinner that night, he was going to need another one.

 

He used the force to move the hoverchair towards the great windows on the edge of the library, gently setting it down in a bright patch of sun, curling up as well as he could with one leg that sat like a pile of lead, and closed his eyes, intent on taking a nap.

 

***

 

Obi-Wan woke up with three cats on him, and an amused Master meditating next to his chair. 

 

The cats were nice and warm. One of them was the small hairless, Tikia, one a short haired white cat, Leop, and a long haired dark brown, Tucu, and Obi-Wan loved them all. Well, they were sitting on his chest and it was hard to breathe. He loved them more when they didn’t do that.

 

Dooku was a  _ cat person _ . It was weird.

 

He reached out towards his bond with Qui-Gon, wrapping himself up in it like a blanket, and when he heard a little sigh he opened eyes he didn’t know he’d closed, and found his master looking down at him with such unhidden love and affection that it choked him up a little.

 

“I don’t know why I was ever so worried about being around you. I don’t think anyone could corrupt that gentle light if they gave it their all.”

 

Obi-Wan was flushed red, not just from the embarrassment though, from the sun and three warm pets sitting on him, but he couldn’t seem to look Qui-Gon in the eyes, too shy. Why was he always so shy?

 

“Okay, I’ll quit embarrassing you, we should go get ready for dinner anyways, come on.”

 

Obi-Wan turned on the anti-grav function on the chair again, letting it rise up before using a gentle force push to get it going easily after Qui-Gon.

 

“Why do I need to be  _ ready _ for dinner?”

 

Tucu and Leop seemed to have woken up, looking over the edge of the floating chair with interest while Tikia continued snoozing mushed between the soft arm of the chair and Obi-Wan’s side. Qui-Gon gave them both a pet as they walked down the hallway. “Well, tonight, we’re going to have some others joining us.”

 

Obi-Wan’s face twisted up in a half confused scowl. He didn’t like being told about new people last minute. That had  _ always _ been enough to put him in a bad mood. Qui-Gon called him a natural loner and said that even if he was good with people, others drained his energy and put him in a bad mood. Obi-Wan just thought it was rude to throw new people at him last minute.

 

“Who?”

 

Qui-Gon didn’t exactly look at him when he answered. “...Xanatos and Bruck.”   
  


The look Obi-Wan gave him was  _ betrayed _ . “I don’t like Bruck.”

 

Qui-Gon sighed. “Dislike is not the Jedi way.” His reply was weak at best.

 

Obi-Wan glared at the wall as it passed. His hoverchair was soft and he was still mostly laying down since he didn’t want to pull himself up into a better position while moving with three cats on him, but he still did his best to sulk at the wall. “He’s mean and a bully.”

 

Qui-Gon reached down to tug on his braid, making him sulk up at him instead. “He’s a bit less of a bully now, little one. Besides, you were a constant ball of anger when I first took you on, but  _ you’ve _ changed.”

 

Obi-Wan conceded to that point. He had changed so much over the years. But, Bruck had always hated him so much, it wasn’t exactly reassuring to know he’d have to deal with him  _ here _ , with torn up shields and disabled.

 

The embarrassment came back, quickly morphing into mortified in seconds, dread pooling in his stomach.

 

Dooku and Qui-Gon had been there with him when he first got taken to the hospital, they were there reassuring him all the way through his stay, helping him get settled into the manor with them, taking care of him the whole time, reassuring him that they wanted what was best for him and nothing he could need would be seen as  _ embarrassing _ .

 

But Bruck…

 

“He’s not going to say anything unless it’s kind. I would have asked Xanatos to keep them away if I thought Bruck would bully you like a temperamental child. Remember, Obi-Wan, the key difference between the fights you two had as children, and right now, is that none of the adults around you  _ realized _ anything was wrong. Bruck has made a big effort to change his ways, even as Xanatos taught him to use the dark side. Bruck wants to see you, if not as a friend, than as a part of his lineage.”

 

Obi-Wan felt his racing heart calm. He didn’t really  _ believe _ Qui-Gon, not yet, but that was a good point. If Bruck  _ did _ want to bully him, the others simply  _ wouldn’t _ let him. He would be safe if he stayed with Qui-Gon and Dooku. They haven’t hurt him, and they wouldn’t let anyone else. He believed Master when he said he wanted the best for him.

 

Tucu climbed up onto his chest and sat down, purring so loud it woke up Tikia. He sighed, simply directing the chair to follow after his master. Time to get ready for dinner.

 

***

 

When they got to dinner that night, in the nice little dining room off the side of the kitchen that was rarely inhabited by anyone other than Qui-Gon and a few workers who came in every third day to prepare meals to last till the next time they came, because according to Qui-Gon, Yan couldn’t cook to save his life, and it was the only thing he would use workers for other than cleaning to maintain the palace they resided in, Xanatos and Bruck were already there. The table was set with various foods from all over the galaxy, and Obi-Wan felt his stomach grumble at the sight of Alderaan peaches, but could already hear the semblance of an admonishment in his head, that he needed to eat something that wasn’t carbs first, before he makes himself ill.

 

He turned to give his master a little glare and before anyone could help him, he used the force to turn two chairs towards each other at the edge of the table, and move the hoverchair to set on them, so he was at table height while still sitting. There was an awkward silence in the room as Qui-Gon joined him  in the chair nearby and Dooku ignored them all in favor of his data pad, that he was scowling at very impressively.

 

The silence didn’t last, as Qui-Gon quietly asked Xanatos how he and Bruck have been since he last saw both of them.

 

“We’ve been helping with relief aid on Ketat. They’ve been ravaged by a number of natural disasters, and their government is ill equipped to deal with that at the moment. We’ve helped them draft a petition for Senate aid, but the chances of them sending it at low, to be honest. More likely, the senate will convince some of their neighbors to help in their stead.”

 

Obi-Wan tuned out Qui-Gon and Xanatos’s conversation about the places they’ve been since they last were here, concentrating on the force instead. He was sort of stuck in this chair -sitting cross legged, the end of the chair tucked perfectly under the table, like they found it fits on the first night Obi-Wan had dinner with them- so he could only really reach his plate, having lost quite a bit of maneuverability with his limitations. But he didn’t want Qui-Gon’s help, he could learn to do  _ some _ things himself.

 

He ignored Bruck’s curious looks while he used the force to ladle a heavy lamb curry into a bowl, neat and tidy just like he’d always been otherwise. He smiled to himself, pleased he didn’t need any help, not realizing how quiet it was in the room till he was already eating. He looked up with a frown, noting all eyes on him. “What?”

 

Dooku was uncharacteristically gentle when he spoke. Obi-Wan sort of wanted to be mad at how they all seemed to be treating him like he was fragile, but in the early days, he’d realized it wasn’t exactly like that. He was overly sensitive to other people’s emotions right now, and the way they spoke would easily affect his mood, usually for the worse, if he thought someone was upset with him. Qui-Gon seemed very concerned with that, but also, it usually meant he gave Obi-Wan a lot of hugs, and Obi-Wan couldn’t complain about that.

 

“You’ve officially been labeled as missing. The high council has sent out an emergency warning that if anyone has news to your whereabouts, they are to report immediately, and you’ve otherwise been labeled as missing. I assume this means they’ve also sent Jedi to your last known location to look for you and found nothing but a broken ship.”

 

Obi-Wan hummed around a mouthful of carrot and potato, tapping the spoon against his lower lip in thought. “Are you going to send me back? Because I don’t want to go.”

 

Dooku smiled, a little sad. “As well, we do not wish you to go, young one. I am still a member of the order, and I will do my duty in reporting your whereabouts. I’m sure many of them are quite concerned about you.”

 

Obi-Wan frowned, looking down with a little glare. “Concern isn’t the Jedi  _ way _ .”

 

They all gave him a funny look at that, but it was Bruck that spoke. “We didn’t learn that in the crèche, even when I was being an ass to you the teachers always said that compassion for others is the Jedi way. Have emotions, but do not let them control your actions. Qui-Gon wouldn’t have taught you that, was it that knight that took over when Qui-Gon left?”

 

Obi-Wan shrugged, looking away from them all. He wasn’t sure what was memory, or what was strange dreams anymore. “I think I lost all memory of that time.”

 

Qui-Gon looked pained. “It’s possible some memory may have been left in tact. But only… only if you made a conscious decision to put it out of your thoughts. Anything… traumatic, would have been pushed to the back of your mind, and attacked last when they poison came.”

 

Obi-Wan gave him a bland look. “So… anything I  _ tried _ to forget, would still be in there, but anything I tried to remember would have gotten eaten? That’s… kark.”

 

Obi-Wan was too far away to hug, but Qui-Gon was getting that look in his eye like he wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and never let him go. It was sort of sweet, and it made Obi-Wan bask for a moment, in the pure affection and love coming off the man. He was finally getting what he wanted, love and affection from the man he’d wanted to be his master so badly, and it only took being disabled for life to get it.

 

“If they want me to go back, what do I do? I can’t ignore it, can I?”

 

Dooku shook his head. “No, you can. You’re eighteen years old now, and though I  _ doubt _ they’ll agree to give you a full knighthood after what’s happened, they still put you on the knight’s roster, and you could always threaten to leave the order entirely if they don’t let you stay.”

 

Obi-Wan’s nose scrunched up, shaking his head a little. “Wouldn’t they just... let me leave?”

 

Dooku tapped at the edge of the table with a frown. He didn’t answer for a long minute, and when he did, it was less than generous. “This is their mistake, and it very nearly lead to your death, likely, you could ask for just about anything and they’ll grant it. You’re not well enough to travel without a proper caregiver, and they won’t risk forcing one on you, considering your specific needs. They’ll likely see this the least kindness they could give you in the moment.”

 

Obi-Wan frowned. He would likely throw a  _ fit _ if they tried to get anyone but Qui-Gon to take care of him at the moment. He didn’t feel safe with anyone else. Even Dooku wouldn’t be well handled if he had to change him. He could feel his face redden, and it took a moment to get over the strange emotional upheaval that overtook him, not wanting to cry in front of Xanatos and Bruck, and maybe Dooku too. Qui-Gon was another story, he was  _ safe _ to cry around. He was safe to ask for hugs and just be a complete  _ wreck _ around.

 

His master was so different now. Instead of a gentle admonishment and a guiding hand to bring him back to emotional stability, he seemed to welcome his padawan’s emotional states, saying that accepting the emotions was the first step to getting over the way the order had forced him into complacency. Qui-Gon’s strange new views on emotionalism helping instead of hindering, was welcome and weird, but after experiencing it for himself, Obi-Wan didn’t want his master any other way.

 

The man tried to drown him in constant acceptance. It was like a drug, and Obi-Wan just wanted more and more of it until it overtook him.

 

He didn’t want to be vulnerable like that in front of others. Bruck hasn’t said anything bad so far, but he was still… not someone Obi-Wan wanted to bear his soul to. The embarrassing slips with Dooku in the early days had been mortifying enough.

 

His state of mind was a constant wreck lately. 

 

“If they want me to go back after I’m better?”

 

Dooku shrugged. “That’s, unfortunately, a ways away. We have time to consider that. As is, they will want to send a healer to assess you for themselves, so we can look forward to them arriving within a day or two. They will be here rather quick.”

 

Obi-Wan looked around the table, eyes narrowed, considering. “Won’t they realize Xanatos and Master have been here, and get mad at you for harboring them?”

 

Dooku looked unconcerned. “Though Xanatos and Qui-Gon have fallen, the order can do nothing to prove they are a threat to the greater good. The order can condemn a sith, but not a fallen. Fallen Jedi have made  _ mistakes _ that lead them down the path of anger, but a sith, is often deliberate. They are no threat, and I will petition the high council to see that.”

 

Obi-Wan felt a pit form in the bottom of his stomach, and shoveled in more food to try and fill it. He didn’t used to be a nervous eater, but it was either eat, or likely become ill with worry. Master said he couldn’t afford to lose any more weight than he already had.

 

What if the council  _ didn’t _ see they weren’t a threat? Would they try to hurt Qui-Gon? Imprison him? Or worse, kill him?

 

Bruck seemed to speak for him in that moment, voice as much of a wreck as Obi-Wan felt. “Dooku, you cannot be serious, what if they refuse to see what you do? They will take them back to Coruscant and we’ll never see them again.”

 

Dooku looked completely unconcerned. “Xanatos has done more good than harm in the galaxy since leaving the order, and the worst Qui-Gon has done is dig up the grounds in the back of the palace for a garden, which, admittedly, I thought the soil would be too volatile to sustain, and yet, it’s possibly the best garden on this side of the hemisphere. Even the council couldn’t think either of them are a threat.”

 

Neither of the eighteen year olds looked convinced, and for a moment, Obi-Wan felt more in tune with his lineage brother than he had in all their years in the crèche, constantly squabbling like children even when they were well past. He understood him in that moment, and they were both concerned. Very concerned. Bruck has been with Xanatos even longer than Obi-Wan has been with Qui-Gon. Neither of them wanted to lose them.

 

Dooku nodded, as if that was the end of that, finally turning to his meal while Xanatos and Qui-Gon acted utterly unaffected by the conversation, as if they couldn’t be bothered to argue about it. They very likely couldn’t be. It was possibly even their own decisions to petition the council.

 

“Then it’s settled. After dinner, we’ll contact the council. You don’t need to say much, just answer a few questions. I’ll be sure to keep them in line, and they’ll know it was their mistake that lead us here. Even the council can be susceptible to guilt.”

 

Dooku sounds like he’s had years and years to manipulate the council, and likely he has. It’s a good thing he’s on their side.

 

***

 

The holocall room was one of those fancy ones that took up a whole room that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon used to see in palaces and government buildings. It made Obi-Wan feel strange to be calling to the high council in an official capacity like this while sitting on a hoverchair. Qui-Gon had helped him move after dinner, and Obi-Wan was honestly thankful, because his left hip was a little sore, still so easily wounded since he’s been abed for so long, and he can only imagine the tension that would have caused in the damaged leg, though he couldn’t feel it. It wasn’t good to eat while laying down, and it gave him a stomach ache to try, so Qui-Gon was good with helping that.

 

Now he was laying back with his right leg flat and heavy on the hoverchair, while the other one was up in a v above him, swaying side to side as he waited for Dooku to get ready to call, leaning back against the heavy cushions at the back of the chair. He was relaxed and had forced himself to eat so he was full, and a little bit tired. 

 

“Did you drug me?”

 

He felt way too relaxed for how nervous he’d been about this call. He has his master right now, and Bruck, it seems, has his. They’ve come too far to lose them now. Dooku better be right about this.

 

Dooku scoffed. “As if I would, you know how your master feels about unnatural medications.”

 

Obi-Wan sighed, nodding, imitating Qui-Gon’s voice. “Unnatural medications are only if you need them, and supplements should always be the first option.”

 

Dooku snorted. “You’re quite good at that. No, I put valerian root in your and Bruck’s tea.”

 

Obi-Wan rolled his head lazily to the side so he could see his grandmaster working through the communications console, looking unconcerned with it all. “Muscle relaxers? Master makes me take those when I pull a muscle.”

 

“Which is why he suggested it, since he’s worried about your hip being under stress.”

 

Obi-Wan sighed, shaking his head a little. “It’s not that bad. Why Bruck too?”

 

Dooku got up from the console, ready to start the holocall. “I was hoping he’d fall asleep. He was almost as stressed as you were. Now, I’m ready to start the call. I got a hold of a communications padawan, it’s about four in the morning there, so it wasn’t hard to get a hold of the council, but Saesee Tiin and Eeth Koth are both off world and won’t be joining us.”

 

That didn’t honestly mean much to Obi-Wan. He was still young enough not to have much of a relationship with the council, but actually, that might have changed in the time he didn’t remember, but he wasn’t sure. He shrugged. “Okay.”

 

Dooku nodded, standing in the middle of the room. “I’m focusing the projection screen about a foot above you. I don’t want to startle them immediately, so don’t speak until I say.”

 

Obi-Wan just nodded with a sigh, chest unknotting at that. He was too nervous to show up right away. They would probably be upset, maybe even mad with him. He really had to have kriffed up bad to end up gouged on his first ever solo mission.

 

The holocall went through, and there was the council, looking like they’d scrambled out of bed in a hurry to make it to this meeting. Dooku looked passive, but his force signature was way too amused at that, and Obi-Wan had the feeling he’d scheduled this meeting now on purpose.

 

Yoda was sat at the head of the council like usual, looking grave and serious. It always made Obi-Wan want to tell a bad joke so he would smile at him. Yoda loved bad jokes. He looked down at his hands while Dooku and the councilors exchanged pleasantries. Or, as pleasant as they could get when Dooku had woken him up this early.

 

“Found our lost knight, have you?”

 

Dooku didn’t look at Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan could feel his presence wash over him soothingly. It was almost time to show, then. “I have. He’s with me now. His condition is stable, but I’m sending you his medical files right now.”

 

The masters all looked horrified, and before they could say anything, Dooku had already sent them on his data pad. He looked way too smug and amused at their terror, and Obi-Wan wondered just how  _ bored _ his grandmaster got out here if this was his entertainment.

 

“Sick, he is?” Yoda was looking through the files with a critical eye, ears drooping low on his head. Dooku, for his part, did seem to feel bad about the sadness in his master’s eye. If nothing, the man obviously cared  _ deeply _ for his lineage, and it made Obi-Wan relax further. He wouldn’t put Qui-Gon and Xanatos in danger. Whatever he had planned was thought out.

 

“The medical droids predict he’ll regain twelve percent use of his right leg. That’s hopeful.”

 

Mace was frowning at his data pad, eyebrows furrowed together. “What was he doing on Tegai to begin with?”

 

Dooku went still, mirroring the expression. “Was that not where you sent him?”

 

The room seemed to intone the negative, before Master Nu spoke up. “I’m looking into his mission records now, Mace, he was indeed sent to Tegai.”

 

Yoda’s ears were up again, alarmed. “Send him there, we never would. Dangerous for a master, that world is, dangerous for a knight elect, it surely is.”

 

Nu just shook her head. “Clearly, it was dangerous if he nearly died there. Hunted by a huguni, so he doesn’t remember the incident likely.”

 

Dooku shook his head. “Worse, he managed to run for nearly two days before he was picked up and brought to the medical center. He doesn’t remember the last  _ two years _ .”

 

Complete silence, and it seemed like they were all discussing it among each other. Finally, Yoda turned back to them. “Remember his master, does he?”

 

Dooku shook his head. “He doesn’t remember Qui-Gon leaving the order. It’s for the best. Along with the loss of memory, came the loss of pain that memory brought him.”

 

Yoda just tilted his head down, looking sad. “Hurt him greatly, that loss did, but without a master to claim him, and the memory of his lost master, lost he will be himself.”

 

Dooku down to where Obi-Wan was sitting, looking concerned, even as he sent waves of gentle amusement towards him. “He’ll be fine. He isn’t well enough to come back yet.”

 

Plo Koon sat forward in his chair, as if it could help him see outside the projection field better, voice amused when he spoke. “Sneaky, Master Dooku, he’s there with you?”

 

Dooku nodded once, and he could feel a push back from Obi-Wan, acceptance to put himself in the field of vision as well. Dooku held back the wince on his face at the push. As much as Obi-Wan was still working on his shields, he was having a little bit of volume control issues, much like young children in the crèche. He was so used to having to project his thoughts instead of them just slipping out, he might be pushing a little too hard now.

 

He opened up the projection screen so Obi-Wan was in full view of them all as well, and it went quiet again. Obi-Wan clenched his fists at the bottom of the sweater he wore. He was so used to layers, even outside of his Jedi robes Qui-Gon had opted for big soft sweaters for his easily chilled padawan.

 

“What thoughts have you, young one?” Yaddle looked honestly concerned, and Obi-Wan knew enough that he could guess that all of them were. He sort of wished he’d brought the blanket he usually had with him. He got cold easily, and without movement to get blood flowing, he’s been rather chilled in the big palace, but Qui-Gon had found him a heavy wool blanket to keep with him when he got cold. He’d opted to leave it with Qui-Gon while he was in the holocall with the council. He was afraid clinging to a blanket would look childish.

 

But that’s exactly what he wanted to do right now.

 

“I… don’t want to go back to the temple. I want to stay on Serenno with Grandmaster. If you cared for my recovery any, you wouldn’t force me to leave where I feel safe right now. Everything is so… different. I don’t want to go back to the temple until I can figure it out.”

 

Dooku raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t comment. Manipulative, his words were, but subtle, they were not. He was going to have to work on that with him.

 

Yoda gave him a kind look, knowing that even if Obi-Wan wasn’t subtle, his words were still true. They all read the same medical file, they knew that if he was comfortable with whoever was taking care of him, switching caretakers would just scare him again.

 

“Taken from Serenno, you will not be. Safe you feel there?”

 

Obi-Wan nodded, enthusiastic and a little heartbreaking with the tears in his eyes. “I feel safe here. I want to be here.”

 

The masters seemed to agree with that. “Sent to you, healers will be. Discover your side of this incident, they will. Sent to Tegai, you were  _ not _ meant to be. An oversight, this is. A gift from the force, you were found.”

 

Obi-Wan nodded. It was no less than Dooku had said would happen. 

 

“Another thing, before we leave you to your rest and send healers to see you,” Mace started, looking off to the doors of the room, before back to him, “your stand-in master would like to see you for himself. He’s been fretting with worry since you failed to check in, he would very much like to see you alive and well.”

 

Obi-Wan seemed cautious, eyebrows furrowing, before he gave a slow nod. “I don’t remember who he is, I doubt it’ll be any comfort to him if I can’t even recognize him.”

 

They all seemed a little down at that, and for once, Obi-Wan’s chest felt tight, like for the first time, he was realizing that the council honestly  _ cared _ about the people under them. They were upset at him being hurt. They were upset that their mistake had lead to a permanent disability and nearly killed him.

 

They just wanted him safe. They weren’t even demanding he return to them. Just heal and feel safe.

 

The Jedi order had many faults. He’s kept a mental record of them all over the years. Their biggest faults by far, were their reliance on the senate, and their ability to cast aside those who showed anger, instead of helping them not to let it control them. If they hadn’t cast aside Qui-Gon and Xanatos at the first sign of the darkside, they never would have been labeled fallen, they never would have been sent away. Obi-Wan and Bruck would be happy and healthy back in the temple, with their respected masters who would still be a part of the order.

 

Emotion, yet peace.

 

They had nearly kicked Obi-Wan out of the temple for his anger, several times in fact. But Obi-Wan barely stayed by the skin of his pants because he never touched the darkside. Maybe if they spent more time teaching  _ children _ how to express anger in an appropriate way instead of constantly berating them for having it at all…

 

Mace smiled at him, gentle. It stung much more than when Qui-Gon and Dooku did it.

 

“I think the important thing is that he sees you alive. Surviving. Even if not fully healthy.”

 

Obi-Wan felt that burning storm of anger that he hadn’t felt for years, and he didn’t know where it came from. It was like everything the council said now would piss him off. He wanted to rage and yell that they did this to him, and now they wanted him to smile nice for some man he’s never met-

 

No. Knight Herics. It was him. He was the anger inside of Obi-Wan. Why did he bring anger? What did he do?

 

Obi-Wan was always that one kid who looked at a picture just because a teacher said he wouldn’t like what he saw in it. He was the master of the self inflicted pain. He needed to know why this man made him burn and rage inside.

 

“Okay. Send him in.”

 

They could hear the doors open, and a moment later, a man stepped into the room. He had white hair and skin nearly matching. He was human, or at least, humanoid enough to blend in, though the colouring suggested maybe other sentient heritage.

 

He spoke, and Obi-Wan had to hold back the urge to throw up. He sat up in the hoverchair, gasping for breath while the man seemed unaffected by Obi-Wan’s obvious distress, other than a -fake, very fake- look of concern.

 

“Hello, Obi-Wan, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” Obi-Wan could feel his stomach churn, and his brain wouldn’t shut up, like it was trying to force a memory forward. 

 

He couldn’t breathe, it was hard to do, and it made his chest burn, all at once he was thankful that he’d been given muscle relaxers, because he’s sure it’s the only thing keeping him from throwing up, and he was trying to sit up in the hoverchair, feeling lightheaded, hard to pull in air. 

 

“Obi-Wan? Padawan, are you okay-“

 

_ Shut up! _

 

“Obi-Wan obviously you aren’t feeling well-“

 

_ Make him shut up! _

 

“Silence! Hold your tongue!” Dooku sounded distressed, and Obi-Wan didn’t blame him, yelling in his head like that. 

 

The room -both rooms- fell quite, and Obi-Wan found himself struggling to maintain his breathing, a hand on his back until his vision came back to him and he realized his eyes were unfocused, he was shaking, and it hurt to move, all his muscles painfully tight, tense, waiting for pain. 

 

But when his sight came back to him, he focused on the figure that had moved to sit on the hoverchair with him, shocked to find, not Dooku, but Qui-Gon. He was faced away from the holoprojection, but every master in the council room was deadly silent, knowing exactly who this was. The door to the room had been flung open while Obi-Wan had been having a panic attack, and now here he was.

 

Obi-Wan whimpered once, reaching for him with a sad little cry, letting his big master gather him up against his chest, letting out soothing little noises as he stroked Obi-Wan’s hair, gently tugging on his braid.

 

“Master Dooku, it seems you’ve neglected to mention your houseguest to us.”

 

Obi-Wan couldn’t see Dooku from where he was hiding, but he could feel the master’s anger. It wasn’t directed at him, it was directed at the man who’d caused all this. The man who spoke and made Obi-Wan panic. 

 

Dooku didn’t reply to Mace, moving so he could kneel next to where Qui-Gon was cradling Obi-Wan as if he was precious. To Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan would never be anything less. “You’ve had a memory, from after you got a new master, Obi-Wan, what have you remembered?”

 

Obi-Wan looked up to the projected masters, and blinked sluggishly when he found Herics was still there, this time flanked on both sides by Mace and Ki-Adi-Mundi, not restraining him, but from the look on their faces, he would have been a fool to run. He closed his eyes, feeling something so akin to shame, and put his head back in Qui-Gon’s chest. He blindly reached out for his grandmaster, letting him take his hand in his own. Dooku’s fingers were rough from a lifetime of saber training, and bigger than Obi-Wan’s would likely ever get, strangely warmer than he expected for some reason. His grandmaster was always surprisingly warmer than expected. 

 

He didn’t want to show him. He didn’t want to inflict these memories on  _ anyone _ , much less his lineage, but if he didn’t, they would let that  _ man _ walk right out of the council chambers without so much as a slap on the wrist. 

 

So he let them out. That first night that Herics came into his room at night, the nights he’d convinced Obi-Wan it was normal and healthy to do, the nights he’d convinced him it would be useless to ask anyone else about it for help… the other nights that Obi-Wan was too numb to think of.

 

Dooku went from anger to a blind rage in a moment, and Obi-Wan wondered just how close everyone in his lineage really was to falling almost constantly, if he’d fall himself one day, but as soon as the blind rage was there, it dissipated, and Dooku was left to stand again, voice deadly quiet as he spoke to the council. 

 

“That man isn’t fit to be anywhere near padawans, anywhere near  _ anyone _ . He didn’t knight Obi-Wan because he thought he was ready, it was a bribe so Obi-Wan wouldn’t tell anyone about him  _ sneaking into his room at night _ .”

 

The council looked honestly horrified.

 

Obi-Wan was glad they couldn’t feel Qui-Gon, see him, because he could feel the rage burning in his chest, and when he pulled back enough to look at him while the council and Dooku talked in the background, about what they were going to do with Herics, and Obi-Wan tuned that out, he could see Qui-Gon’s eyes flashing yellow. 

 

He sighed, feeling exhausted and upset, and went back into to leaning against his chest. He sent as much love as he could through their bond, to the point where even Dooku was sending him back reassuring feelings, the emotion leaking out in all directions instead of just going to Qui-Gon like intended. When he finally looked up again, Qui-Gon’s eyes were back to blue, and he was looking down so fondly at his padawan, like Obi-Wan was his everything. 

 

Obi-Wan wanted to be angry at him for having left him in the first place, all he remembered of the last two years was being used for a stranger’s pleasure, but it was like waking from a vision he’d been  _ sure _ was real while having it, but now in the waking world, the memory faded until it was nothing but a broken nightmare in his mind.

 

That was a broken nightmare, he was here now, and Qui-Gon was with him, and loving, more loving than he’d ever been before, and Obi-Wan just wanted to stay in the here and now, with him.

 

Maybe this was a gift from the force. Let him forget the hurt Qui-Gon’s leave had caused him, so he could go back and start anew with him after they both had been brought so low.

 

He didn’t want to lose anymore memories. The fact that it had already happened was putting a pit in his stomach, giving him a constant worry that he would wake up someday, having lost more time, and this time Qui-Gon would be gone for good. He’d nearly lost him already and he hadn’t even known it.

 

Dooku’s voice reached them again, stiff, but not quite angry again yet. Qui-Gon tucked Obi-Wan back into his chest as he watched his former master. “Qui-Gon Jinn is the only reason that boy lives and breathes. If not for the bond between them, Obi-Wan would be in the belly of a beast with  _ none _ of us any the wiser.”

 

Herics wasn’t in the council room anymore, and all of the sudden Obi-Wan could feel a heavy fatigue in his body. He curled his arms through Qui-Gon’s robes, letting his fingers tangle in the back of his tunics, sagging against him without a care of the masters watching him still. He didn’t care anymore. He wouldn’t let them take Qui-Gon from him. Not again. 

 

He didn’t care if he had to leave the order, he didn’t want to go back. He wanted to stay right here with Master.

 

He sent that thought towards Dooku, and then a request to leave to Qui-Gon, too tired to use words right now. The fight had left his body, and he was shaking from the fatigue.

 

Dooku’s voice cut off Nu’s words, sounding biting in the room. “Obi-Wan is fatigued, he’ll take his leave now, if you wouldn’t mind.”

 

It wasn’t a request. He didn’t want to let go of Qui-Gon, but he knew it would be best for now, so he sat back in the hoverchair, letting Qui-Gon used the force to guide it out of the room after him. He sagged in relief, laying down mostly on his side on the hoverchair now, glaring at his leg when it put it at a weird angle. Still stupidly useless, still constantly getting in his way.

 

Qui-Gon stopped, long enough to gently right him in his place, and as they passed a sitting room near the holorooms, he grabbed Obi-Wan’s heavy wool blanket off the back of the couch he’d been waiting on, giving it to his padawan who mumbled out a little thanks, cuddling into it like he wished he could into Qui-Gon’s chest again.

 

“I think the two of us will have an early night. I have the feeling things will get crowded in a few days.”

 

Obi-Wan was too tired to feel anxiety over that, just scowling angrily at the edge of his cushions. He would deal with everything later. Not now.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> padawansuggest.tumblr.com  
> gatersgonewild.tumblr.com
> 
> In case it's not completely clear, Obi-Wan's temporary master raped him. It's explained more in the next fic, how it was manipulative to convince Obi-Wan that it was okay, but yes, he did that. Also he's the reason Obi got sent to a dangerous planet instead of whatever planet the council chose. They honestly did want Obi to succeed since they could send him on easy missions for a few years till he got the hang of things, but yeah, Herics tried to get rid of Obi cause he realized he couldn't keep manipulating him since he wasn't his first master and didn't get him young enough. Guy was creepy, he had a PLAN to manipulate a padawan, everyone hate on him he's terrible.


End file.
